


Immortal Dream

by raijahn



Category: Smallville
Genre: Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-20
Updated: 2004-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raijahn/pseuds/raijahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Immortal Flight.  Second in a possible series.<br/>What happens next?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immortal Dream

## Immortal Dream

by Raijahn

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/raijahn>

* * *

_Clark_

It's been four and a half days since I was last here. 

It's been mere hours. 

I'm still shaky and in shock. I turned back time. By four and a half days. 

I turned back _time_. By four and a half _days_. 

Which means...Lex. Lex is still alive. Alive and here at home. In the castle. Where I left him the day he died. When I left for work, same as I did everyday. 

Almost five days ago. 

Just this morning. 

My head aches from the confusion, it feels like I have two sets of memories. 

I expected to run into another version of me but apparently the time change doesn't affect me. Since I'm the one who caused it. By flying around the earth. Against its natural rotation. 

God! I rub my hands over my face as I let the front door shut behind me. This is just...impossible. I can't be this powerful. To turn back time? By reversing the rotation of the earth?! But...if it's true... I walk a little faster to the office. If it's true, Lex is there. 

Blindly, I walk through hallways and around corners, until I reach his closed office doors. 

I swallow hard and steel myself for what may or may not lie behind them. 

I push the doors open with shaking hands. I'm so afraid that this is some cosmic joke. No matter the date of the papers, no matter the lack of destruction in the castle. No matter how many different things scream, "Yes, it's true. You turned back time. You saved Lex." 

Yet there he is, sitting behind his desk (the same desk I smashed against the wall mere hours ago) rubbing the bridge of his nose the way he always does when confronted with reports. They always gave him a headache. _Give_ him a headache. I shake my head as realization dawns within me. He's alive, really alive. 

I whisper his name, my voice barely carrying. But after so many, many years together, I know he hears me. He looks up from his reports and I feel my legs almost give way as his eyes lock onto mine. I never thought I would see that look in his eyes again. The one reserved just for me, the one that says so eloquently, 'I love you, I'm here for you.' Five steps. Just five steps and I'm close enough to touch him. See him. Feel him. Hear him. 

Lex 

The anguished whisper of my name brings my head up, brings my mind back from the eternal torment of quarterly production reports. I see Clark standing in the doorway, exhaustion written into every line of his body. Emotions filter through his expressive eyes - fear, hope, joy, sorrow. None of which I understand. What could have happened in the mere six hours since I last saw him? I'd heard of no disasters that could have prompted him to head out as Superman. 

The first step he takes is a stumble and then he is on his knees before me, gazing up at me pleadingly, almost as if he's afraid I'll push him away. Confusion winds through me as I reach a hand out to brush along his face, whispering softly, "Clark, what's wrong?" 

His face crumbles and tears slide down his cheeks, one after another. He whimpers, reaches out with his hands to touch my face so gently. 

"You're really here, really alive." Whispered so softly I'm not sure I hear him correctly. Alive? Why would I not be? I frown and look at him closer. He looks...wounded, his eyes haunted. Anger surges through me at whoever it was that put that look in his eyes. When I find out who did this... 

My fingers tangle in his hair as I urge him forward so I can hold him. He collapses against me, arms locked tight around my waist, face buried in my lap. A violent shudder wracks his tall frame and he starts to shake. His sobs are deep, heart wrenching. I feel my throat tighten and tears fall from my eyes. I bend over him, resting my cheek on his broad back, hands rubbing circles along his sides. I have no idea what has brought this on, but it doesn't matter. 

All that matters is him. 

Clark 

He's real, here and alive. I can feel him, see him, hear him. I can't stop the flood of emotion, the tears, the soul wrenching sobs. I can't stop thinking, 'He's alive, really alive.' I bury my face in his lap harder, rubbing my cheek against his thigh, so damn...relieved. It's like the past four days were a nightmare and I've just woken up. Only the echo of grief is too strong to ignore. He's here now, but he was gone and no amount of time with him will ever erase the memory of his death. 

I feel something dampen the back of my shirt and I pull away, lifting my head up. He stares down at me, face wet, tears still falling from his eyes. I'm confused as to why he is crying until I really hear myself, the sobs, the hitching breaths, the whimpers that escape my throat. But I find I can't stop it. Having him back doesn't easily erase the pain of losing him. 

I close my eyes and lean up to kiss him, gently, reverently. I'll never take him for granted again. The taste of his lips. The feel of his hands in my hair. The sound of his breath and his heart beating. He was only gone for four days, but I will never forget what that felt like. 

He pulls away and whispers, "Clark, love, what happened?" He looks so lost. Not that I blame him. From his point of view, everything should be fine. Just another day with the added bonus of it being our wedding anniversary. 

How do I tell him? Hell what should I tell him? 'You died four days ago except it wasn't really four days _before_ today it _was_ today'? I choose instead to say nothing. At least for now. I just shake my head and stare at him. Drinking him in. Memorizing a face I have never forgotten. 

He twists his fingers in my hair, seeming content to just hold on to me. 

There's nothing I want more. 

Lex 

I _know_ something happened. And I know it was bad. I can tell, doesn't he know that? He can never keep things like this from me. I don't understand why he's doing that now. 

My mind is already rearranging tonight's plans, making a mental note to cancel our dinner reservations, calculating how much time the staff would need to fix things up here, a nice quiet dinner, a long soak in the bath, maybe a massage. There is something so hurt in his eyes. A look I haven't seen since he lost his parents. But there's only us left now. Unless... 

"Clark, did something happen today? Was there someone you couldn't save?" Even after all these years, it still hits him hard. The ones he's unable to save. 

He only shakes his head, one of his hands holding my hand to his face, his breath hitching every now and then. He doesn't speak, just stares at me, so intensely I feel a warmth spread throughout my body. It's been years since he looked at me in this way. Like if he looks away, I'll disappear. I frown at that thought, wondering if that was what had him so upset. Maybe he thought I was leaving him? But no, that doesn't make any sense. We've been together for over a hundred years. There is no way he could believe I'd leave him now. 

Clark grips the wrist of the hand at his face and pulls me up and into his arms. I bury my face at his neck, feeling a sudden swell of emotion at how desperately he holds me. Arms so tight around my waist, face bent down to lay kisses upon my temple. 

None of this makes any sense. Six hours ago he left me with a smile, a kiss and a "Happy Anniversary, baby. See you tonight." 

What the hell had happened to him in the few hours we were apart? 

Clark 

All I want to do is hold him. I don't want to think about tonight, what will happen, what may happen. I glance over his shoulder at the clock. Three thirty-five. A little less than six hours before Superman will be called to the plane. Hopefully, that will be enough time to convince Lex to stay here tonight. Enough time to convince the airlines to cancel the flight. Though, if I'm truly honest with myself, the thought of going out and trying to save those people just turns my stomach. I don't have the heart for it anymore. 

I've been saving lives as Superman for one hundred years. When will it be enough? 

"Clark?" Lex pulls away and looks questionably at me. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I'm still silent, still thinking of how to tell him. It won't be easy. The idea is too incredible. Even for Lex to accept. 

I take his hand and lead him from the room. Around the corner, up the stairs and into our bedroom. 

Lex stands still as I strip us both. I take it slowly, caressing as much of his skin as I can. He doesn't speak, doesn't ask what I'm doing or why. For that I'm grateful. 

I carefully tuck him into bed, climbing in beside him. I draw him into my arms, holding him tight, arms locked around his back, legs wrapped around his, my lips resting on his head. This is home. 

"Clark?" Whispered softly. 

I take a deep breath and began. Telling him about the flight, the car accident, his death. Telling him how I know. How it came to be. 

"Tonight, at nine thirty-five exactly, a flight heading out of Metropolis to Hong Kong will fall. Its cockpit will be torn away and Superman will be called in to help. I'll go, leave you at the restaurant, promising to be home within the hour. I'll get to the plane in time to save everyone on it. But while I'm there, flying that plane back to the airport, you'll be speeding along the freeway towards home until a tractor-trailer jackknifes and slams your car against the median..." 

Lex 

I feel myself grow colder and colder at every word that passes his lips. It's impossible that he knows this. I know for a fact that Clark's gifts don't include visions or premonitions. 

"...I'll hear you screaming for me but I'll be unable to get to you. Thinking, 'I can't let these people die. I took on a responsibility. I have to accept that.' Thirty minutes will pass before I can get to you. By then it will be too late. You'll be trapped in your car, bleeding from so many wounds, pieces of metal piercing your body at odd angles. I'll hold your hand and promise you that I won't blame myself. I'll lie to you and then you'll die. Leaving me all alone." 

"Clark," I whisper shakily. "How in the hell do you know this?" 

He continues caressing my back, almost casual in his actions as he answers. "Because, Lex, it happened. Four days ago. At least, for me it did. You died on this night. I carried your ashes back home two days later. I destroyed our home, this room, your office, mere hours ago. I visited the bridge and then flew into space, determined to stay there until the pain of your loss was gone. Only I couldn't stay still. I flew around the earth, against its natural rotation. Until it began to slow, then stop, then reverse it's spin. By the time I noticed and stopped flying, four and a half days had returned." 

I pull away and tilt his head down so I can look into his eyes. "What exactly are you saying, Clark?" 

He looks at me soberly, touching my face softly before whispering, "I reversed the earth's rotation and turned back time, Lex." 

I am stunned. Beyond stunned. It's not possible and yet...this is Clark. A man born of an alien origin that we have yet to completely understand. Who knows what he is truly capable of? 

I feel Clark's fingers rub a little harder at my skin and l look back at him. The anguish in his eyes is a blow to my heart. He whispers, "You don't believe me, do you?" 

"Clark, I...I don't know what I believe. It's so...impossible and yet, haven't we proven time and again that there is no such thing?" He nods, tears forming in his eyes again. Then it hits me. If it's true...I _died_. I died and left him alone. Oh my God. Clark. What he must have felt...I can only imagine and that's enough. I don't ever want to feel the reality. 

I pull him tightly into my arms, wrapping myself around him as much as I can, leaving no place untouched. If it's true...well, then he lost me once and I'm determined to make sure that the past doesn't repeat itself. 


End file.
